SOMETIMES YA JUST GOTTA LAUGH: "MISS LORETTA"

("Sometimes less is more . . . But not today", Stephanie Deer, 2010, Springfield Museum of Art, Springfield, Utah)

The art world has been known to take itself pretty seriously.

Think about all those snooty portraits of history's movers and shakers, for example.

Most of these people - whether royal blood flows through their veins or not - love to point their noses in the air and pretend they're classier than the rest of us.

They're delusional, of course, but it's kind of fun to snicker and point our fingers at them whenever they pop up on the walls of our local art museums.

When I saw Stephanie Deer's painting, "Sometimes less is more...But not today," I didn't snicker.

I nearly busted a gut laughing.

When I finally calmed down,  I read the wall plate describing this artwork.

We'll let the artist speak for herself.

Stephanie - a native of Draper, Utah - says:

"My motivation starts with the Beehive State.  Utah in all its quirky glory inspires me.  Can you imagine a world without fry sauce?  Funeral potatoes?  The greatest snow on earth?  I shudder at the thought.  These are the warm, vibrant, often hilarious things that connect me to our community.  Painting allows me to celebrate all the pop culture icons that give Utah its unique personality."

Ms. Deer continues:

"The beehive lady emerged from the matriarchs who inspired me as a child.  These proud, native-Utah women loved their families, careers, aprons, roadshows and the occasional warm meal.  Incredible ladies, all of them.  They continue to profoundly influence my work with their strength, vitality and style.  When I was a girl my mother was the hippest gal around.  Her name is Loretta and I named the beehive lady after her."

Then she concludes:

"I am a self-taught artist and by combining several media together by trial and error, my style evolved over time.  Vibrant color and humor are mainstays in my pieces and I often comment on how SERIOUS I am about FUNNY."

Here's the thing, peeps:

I've had my nose planted in a plateful of yummy fries more than a few times.

And I don't dip these taters in boring old ketchup either.

I use the one and only best fry dipping substance on the planet:  Chick-fil-a Sauce.

Chick-fil-a Sauce is a super "delish" form of honey mustard.

I could take a bloomin' bath in this stuff.

Need I say more?

And I'm going to be honest here.

In the excitement of the anticipatory moment - and just like "Miss Loretta"- I've forgotten to remove my sunglasses a time or two before I've dived into the goodies.

This girl is "in the zone," isn't she?

She's staring at those tender sticks of golden deliciousness with everything she's got.

She's soaking up their unresistable aroma seconds before she starts dipping her fries into those - count them - seven cups of Chick-fil-a Sauce.

Whoops.

Excuse me - "fry sauce."

Here's another thing:

I am in love with the happy colors Stephanie has chosen for "Miss Loretta " and her fine dining experience.

Lush, coral reds dominate this painting.

The cheery, cherry wallpaper, the red vinyl bench and "Miss Loretta's" magnificent spiral-shaped "do" all work together to grab our attention and haul it right into the middle of this piece.

We see explosions of color, don't we?

Even "Miss Loretta's" coral-tinged lips - poised as they are over the divine French fries - act as a sort of beacon drawing us into the center of those potato-ey mounds of heaven.

The bright blues of the dress and the underside of the spud plate are the perfect color balance for all of those jump-in-your-face reds.

This painting is a hoot and a half any way you look at it!

Here's just a word or two about the title of  Stephanie's painting.

Most of us have been there, haven't we?

We wake up Monday morning with the best of intentions.

Today we are going to get it right.

Today we are going to eat the right stuff.

And we're going to eat the right stuff in the right proportions.

After all, we are the masters of our souls.

We are the captains of our fate.

WE CAN DO THIS!

But then we glance at a Chick-fil-a billboard as we glide down the interstate at 11:30 a.m. hungrier than ten horses.

Minutes later, the car mysteriously turns into the Chick-fil-a "enter" lane.

The next thing we know, we're telling "Miss Loretta" to schooch over on her bench.

We're gonna need some serious spreadin' out room if we are going to do this right!

Next, we find ourselves goin' head to head with "Miss Loretta" as we plow through our own plate of Frenchified fries.

To our horror, we realize we're downing these things like there's gonna to be no tomorrow.

Then it suddenly dawns on us. . . . . .

there will be a tomorrow!

Relief spills over our flushed faces.

We'll start again tomorrow!

Tomorrow we'll resist those crispy French fries with their seductive special sauce.

Tomorrow we will be masters of our souls.

Tomorrow we will be captains of our fate.

But today?

Nah.

It's not gonna happen today.

Today we're goin' for it big time.

WOMEN DRIVERS

("The Goldsmith Ladies in the Bois de Boulogne in a Peugot 'Voiturette' 1897", Julius Leblanc Stewart, 1901, Musee National de la Voiture et du Tourisme, France)

I'll never forget the day one of my Women's Studies professors said:

"Driving vehicles has done more for the ultimate independence of women than anything else - including the 19th amendment which gave women the right to vote."

That's a big, bold statement for sure!

But as soon as I heard those words,  I knew my professor was on to something.

Why?

A quick survey of history tells the tale.

The great majority of the world's cultures have been patriarchal societies.

That means, of course, that men have traditionally held power over women, children, animals and property.

In other words, men made the rules.

And everyone else fell in line.

This was certainly true in Biblical times.

Israelite women prayed to be blessed with male children for several reasons.

One of the most important was this:

A woman's eldest son held the power and the responsibility to look after his mother in her old age - assuming the woman's husband preceded her in death.

Under most of the world's social systems, daughters were strictly watched over by their fathers.

If the father died, the daughter's eldest brother inherited that responsibility.

If the eldest brother died, the daughter's next youngest male sibling took on that job.

Eventually, uncles and cousins would be pegged for the job of overseeing the life of a single female relative if the immediate family had no more males to carry out the task.

On and on it went.

Down the line of familial patriarchal responsibility.

It goes without saying that a daughter's husband took over this assignment on the day of her marriage - often at the tender age of 13 or 14 years old.

If we fast forward through history, we discover that little improvement had been made in the societal and political status of women by the time of the ancient Greeks.

In fact, most Greek women of the Golden Age were forbidden to leave their marital homes unless their husbands or other male relatives accompanied them outside to the larger world.

Occasionally, these women would be allowed to visit a next door neighbor - if their husbands knew about their plans in advance and gave their blessing.

In Renaissance Italy, women born into aristocratic families served as little more than bargaining chips in the marriage market.

Daughters were married off for economic and political reasons.

These well-born ladies were told who they would marry and then they were counseled "to make the best of it."

Now let's jump way, way ahead to the Victorian era.

During this period, men reasoned that women should be "elevated" and figuratively "placed on pedestals" due to the supposed moral superiority of the fairer sex.

Male thinking went something like this:

"Because women are moral, gentle, emotional and delicate creatures, they must be "protected" by men from the nastiness of life. The best way to accomplish this is to assure women that their place is in the home - not in the harsh outer world of commerce and business."

Hmmm.

That's a sly way of saying the same old thing, isn't it?

The point is this:

Traditionally, men have wanted to keep power in male hands.

Today, power hungry males are alive and kicking throughout the world.

These men use the same old arguments to bolster their case against the freedom of women.

That's why in some modern cultures, women have not been allowed to drive on the world's roadways.

Cars, after all, are the vehicles (no pun intended) that bring education and understanding to the traveling throngs.

Travel leads to the acquisition of knowledge.

Knowledge not only about the greater world around us but also knowledge and enlightenment about ourselves.

Now, in the case of women, we can't have that, can we?

Because if we do have that, female drivers just might want more freedom to move themselves around the world.

If that happens, women are going to possess wider views of the planet they live on.

That could easily lead to the acquisition of new ideas, thoughts and ambitions.

And before anyone realizes what's happened, these world savvy women are going to demand - dare we say it?

POWER!

(Otherwise known as control over their own lives.)

We don't know whether French painter, Julius Lablanc Stewart, was bothered by the idea of female drivers.

But it certainly looks as if he frankly promoted the concept, doesn't it?

The truth is, of course, that we don't know Stewart's political opinions about women drivers.

But I believe it's safe to say that he was - at the very least - intrigued by the idea.

Stewart was an American artist - he was born in Philadelphia.

Julius's father was a wealthy man who made his fortune in the sugar industry.

He moved his family to Paris in 1865 and became a dedicated art collector.

The fine arts were in the blood of this family.

So it was no surprise when Julius showed an early interest in painting.

He studied with many of the most polished masters of the day at the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris.

Because of the family's wealth, Stewart was able to live a  privileged life of his own choosing without having to worry about money issues.

Julius painted what pleased him.

And what pleased him were large scale group portraits of upper society people - people who were often his friends.

Stewart earned his creds in the art world.

He exhibited frequently at the Paris Salon and helped organize the "Americans in Paris" section of the 1894 Salon.

His beautiful painting, "The Baptism," was shown at the 1893 Chicago World Columbian Exposition and it received honors at the 1895 Berlin International Exposition as well.

(The Baptism, Julius Leblanc Stewart, 1892, Los Angeles County Museum of Art)

I had the privilege of viewing "The Baptism" in Los Angeles a while ago.

It is a huge painting.

But that's not what draws you into the piece.

The painting depicts the gathering of a notable, uppercrust family who is experiencing some degree of distress.

The baptism of an infant is taking place in a gorgeous, spacious room at the family's mansion.

Several people are on hand to witness this sacred event.

But the baptism of the infant is not the focal point of the painting.

In the foreground of the work, we see a young mother languishing on a chaise lounge.

Though she is beautiful and well adorned, it is obvious that she is not physically well.

Bringing forth her child into the world has taken its toll on the young mother's health and well-being.

Stewart has expertly placed this woman at the center of his canvas and because he has done so, our hearts are easily drawn to this new mother's trials and personal worries.

As I studied this painting I imagined that this mother might be thinking,  "Will I live long enough to raise my child?"

That would not have been an unthinkable question at that time in history.

For these reasons - and many others -  "The Baptism" is a wonderful work of art.

Now, then.

Let's turn to happier thoughts.

Stewart's painting, "The Goldsmith Ladies...in a Peugeot" is simply an undisputed joy ride, isn't it?

Here we see two young women - I've named them "Sadie" and "Mae" - out on the road with their trusty canine friend - let's call him - "Blaze."

Sadie, looking particularly spiffy in her sienna hued driving coat, is captain of the Peugeot.

She is the driver of this early "convertible."

And there is no doubt that she is in command.

Those eyes of hers are staring straight ahead as she steers that bumpy buggy down the road.

She's taking care of business.

She knows exactly what she's doing!

And even if she doesn't, you'd never know it by looking at her.

Stewart's Sadie is competent and cool under what could be possible pressure to perform well.

What about Mae?

Look at that obvious grin on her lovely face.

She's enjoying every second of this driving experience.

Mae's left hand is grasping the brim of her perky straw hat.

She doesn't want to lose it to the breeze that is kicking up as the vehicle plows through oncoming air.

Mae's right arm is stretched across the back of the seat - perhaps to provide stability and balance for her as the vehicle rambles forward.

That gauzy scarf in her clasped fingertips is flying for all it's worth, isn't it?

Everything about Stewart's Mae says:  "I'm loving this!"

And then we have Blaze riding out front and center.

He's in his element!

Look at that taut torso and those sturdy legs!

His left ear is busy flapping in the wind.

The dog's eyes are virtual slits.

We can't tell if he can see anything at all.

But who cares?

Blaze is living in the moment and enjoying the brisk breeze as it flows across his body.

This animal - his body pressed forward into the wind - knows how to live life!

There's a lesson in this for each one of us.

Just as Sadie, Mae and Blaze are embracing new opportunities - and challenges - in their lives, should we not step forward in our own lives and brave the unknown?

Of course, the answer to that question must be a resounding "yes."

Stewart's Sadie and Mae are literally and figuratively driving into their futures.

Not only that, they are paving the road that will lead to joyful movement and purpose-filled freedoms for all women down through the decades of time.

Drive on, my dears.

Drive on!

GIRLS IN PEARLS: CAROLINA CHILD

("Carolina Child", Stephen Scott Young, 2000, Montgomery Museum of Fine Art, Montgomery, Alabama)

Oh......my......stars

Stephen Scott Young's painting, "Carolina Child," knocked my socks off the moment I laid eyes on it.

This is a stunning work of art!

Young, born in 1957,  is an American contemporary artist from Honolulu, Hawaii, who is primarily known for his watercolor paintings and etchings.

In "Carolina Child," Young changes things up a bit because this is an oil painting done on masonite.

One of this artist's favorite themes is everyday life in the American South but he also creates work depicting the Out Islands of The Bahamas.

This modern master focuses on social concepts such as coming of age, class and race when he creates his art.

He is known as a "hyper-realist" which means that he is a painter who emphasizes highly intricate details in his realistic works.

His creations are also noted for their beautifully rendered simplicity of subject matter.

It's not difficult to see all of these qualities in "Carolina Child."

Let's look more closely.

We notice, first of all, that the composition of this painting is unusual.

Our subject is not standing front and center in the foreground of this piece.

Instead, she is standing at the lower left corner of the painting.

This deliberate placement helps catch the viewer's attention, doesn't it?

Next, we see that this child has been captured in shadow.

The dark tones of the shadows and the hues of her rich, brown skin are in direct contrast to the massive white spaces which surround her.

This painterly device should give us some clues into the artist's probable intentions.

Let's zero in on the young girl's pose and her facial expression.

Her head has been placed at a slightly downward slant.

And it has been turned to the right - but just barely.

The child's head is turned just enough so we, the viewers, can easily distinguish her facial features.

Glimmering shades of white settle on her ear, cheek and eyes as well as on the side of her nose and lips.

Just in case we have missed those glimmers, Young has given us a second chance to notice them with the sweetly scalloped lace collar that rests against her neck.

The collar is a larger splash of white and it serves as a pedestal of sorts for the child's head.

None of this was an accident, of course.

Young is using these whitewashed glimmers and poised scallops to draw our attention to the emotional temperature of his "Carolina Child."

She seems lost in her own thoughts, doesn't she?

Do we know what she is thinking?

No, we do not.

And, frankly, it's none of our business.

Still, it is readily apparent that she is in a contemplative state of mind.

She is mulling things over.

With these observations, we quickly identify with this girl and we share in her humanity.

For we are all thinking beings, frequently bent on pondering the circumstances of our lives in order to make sense of them.

The whitewashed walls and the sepia-tinged shadows seem to envelop "Carolina Child" in a cozy embrace while she meditates.

She is safe there.

Safe to think.

And safe to feel.

Next, we instantly recognize that the "pearls" in this painting are not real.

They are much too large to be real.

And it's a pretty good bet that they did not cost a fortune.

They are not precious jewels.

Except perhaps to our "Carolina Child."

And that's all that is important, after all.

She wears those four gigantic pearls proudly.

These pearls are workers.

They bind and twist the strands of her hair into a ship-shape, upswept "do."

A crimson red, fluttery bow - or is it a fabric butterfly? -  is placed at the back of her head.

That brilliant shot of red draws attention to those humongous pearls, doesn't it?

For many centuries,  the pearl has been a primary symbol of good taste and elegance.

Pearls, above all other gems, have decorated, highlighted and emphasized the countenances of women (and men) the world over.

They are symbols of innocence and purity as well.

In some ways, they lend a divine sort of light to their wearers.

It is this divine light that shines upon our "Carolina Child."

As we gaze upon her lovely countenance, we feel her innocence and purity.

She is no longer a stranger to us.

Without knowing the internal workings of her thoughts, we somehow share in them.

And that is a very godly thing to do.

GIRLS IN PEARLS: SUCH A RELIEF!

("Profile of a Young Woman", Mino da Fiesole, 1455, Birmingham Museum of Art, Birmingham, Alabama)

As much as I love sculpture, this art form usually takes second place to the magic I find in color-splashed oil paintings.

That being true, I have to admit that the really wonderful thing about sculpture is that it is usually three dimensional.

That means it has body, weight and mass.

Simply put, you can walk around a work of sculpture and enjoy the view from several vantage points.

There's just something very enticing - and humanizing - about that.

"Bas Relief" sculpture is another thing altogether.

This is a form of sculpture in which figures are carved on a flat surface so that they project only a little from the background.

By their very nature, bas-relief sculptures do not have the same body, weight or mass as do three dimensional sculptures.

I have always been enamored by bas-relief works of art

They have a delicate beauty that simply can't be reproduced in any other art form.

Mino da Fiesole's "Profile of a Young Woman" is a perfect example of bas-relief at its finest.

Sculptor Mino was alive, well and working smack dab in the middle of the Italian Renaissance.

He was born in the pretty little Tuscan town of Fiesole which is just five miles north of Florence.

Mino's master teachers were the talented Desiderio da Settignano and Antonio Rosssellino - don't you just love Italian names? - who set him on a course to bigger and better things in the medium of sculpture.

Mino and his masters were fellow workers and good friends as well as academic cohorts.

Although most sculptors of his time were not able to travel to Rome for further study and work, Mino was blessed to live in Rome on two separate occasions.

Without a doubt, Mino's sculptural skills benefited from both of these study/work periods in Rome.

Mino's sculpture is distinguished by its finely polished surfaces and its delicacy of details.

He is known for his finesse with sharp, angular, richly carved drapery as well.

But his work is primarily noted for its strong sense of spirituality and its excellent representation of devotional feelings.

This is obvious when we look at his "Profile of a Young Woman."

Mino pulled at my heartstrings - again  - just a few days ago.

Bob and I walked into a splendid room containing lovely Renaissance oil paintings at the Birmingham Museum of Art in Alabama.

And there was Mino's young woman, glowing in her subtle radiance on the center wall.

She is a woman not to be missed for many reasons.

But one of those reasons is this:

Spotlights are directed upon her elegant countenance from above.

Then its up to her viewers to admire her spiritual majesty.

And I, for one, did just that.

Let's take a closer look.

Although the young woman's head is seen in profile, her torso is actually turned just a bit forward, toward the viewer so we can get a better look at that gorgeous gown.

Scholars have determined that Mino's young woman is arrayed in the classical dress of Roman antiquity.

The gauzy material of her gown is gathered in a traditional knot on her chest.

Small, round buttons hold the diaphanous fabric together at her shoulder and upper arms.

Mino's rendering of the woman's delicate features creates the feeling of facial reality which is usually not found in lesser bas-relief art.

The texture of the woman's skin is a sight to behold.

It appears to be as smooth as a newborn's silky bottom.

How in the world does a sculptor - working with hard, cold marble - manage to convey that feeling to his viewers?

Only the best of the best are able to accomplish this feat.

The young woman's smooth-as-glass skin provides direct contrast to the finely pleated, angular folds of her gown.

And it is those striking contrasts that envelope Mino's viewers and brings them to a new appreciation of his mind-blowing talent.

Finally, we look at this young woman's hair.

It is tied up with narrow ribbons in at least two places on the back of her head.

Believe it or not, the woman's hair is covered with a nearly transparent veil.

(You'll have to take my word on this.)

The veil is edged with the most classic of all jewels - a magnificent string of graduated pearls.

Mino's pearls serve to highlight -  and decorate - the well proportioned forehead of his young woman.

Additionally, they follow the feminine curves of her head - gently grazing her ear and then slowly disappearing into the shadows at the nape of her neck.

This is Mino at his most sublime.

I feel privileged whenever I am able to experience Mino's work.

For it is, indeed, an experience.

And one of the highest order.

The simple truth is this:

I become a better person each time I immerse myself in one of Mino's sculptures.

And, for me, that is the high and holy purpose of all true art.

GIRLS IN PEARLS: OLGA'S BEJEWELED GOWN

("Olga Nikolayevna, Queen of Wurttemburg," Franz Winterhalter, 1865, Wurttembergisches Landsmuseum, Stuttgart, Germany)

We all know that it is possible to over do anything in life.

(That is, of course, with the exception of eating chocolate.)

It is also true that any queen worth her salt knows she must look spiffy in her official royal portraits.

After all, she is the first royal lady of her country and she should look the part, shouldn't she?

Olga Nikolayevna, later Queen Olga of Wurttemburg, certainly thought so.

This blue-blooded lady, born in 1822, was sister to the doomed Alexanader II of Russia.

The very same Alexander II who was ousted as czar during the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia.

Miss Olga came with a long list of desirable characteristics.

Olga was attractive, cultured and intelligent.

She spoke several languages and thoroughly enjoyed music and painting.

She was one of the most eligible princesses in the Europe of her day.

Olga's parents wanted her to secure a high level dynastic marriage.

Three of her siblings had not done so well in the marriage department.

Each of them married - how shall I put this? - lesser members of European royal families.

So the pressure was on Olga to step up to her royal duty and outshine them all.

After only a few meetings, Olga accepted Crown Prince Charles of Wurttemburg's proposal of marriage in 1846.

The wedding was a royal shindig of the finest sort.

It was held at the Peterhof Palace in St. Petersburg, Russia.

Now that's saying something!

That's because Peter the Great of Russia became entranced with a little place called "Versailles" when he visited France several decades earlier.

So he went home to St. Petersburg and threw together his own version of Louie's palatial home.

I have seen both of these royal estates.

They literally glow with glittery architecture, furniture and decorative accessories.

(Louis XIV Bedroom in Versailles)

And they are a hoot to visit!

But I gotta say that, in my opinion, both Louie and Peter frequently passed the realm of good taste in their respective dwellings.

Too much of a good thing is often just too much!

(Peterhof, St. Petersburg, Russia)

Anyway, after the splendiferous wedding, Olga got busy with her royal work.

She dedicated her life to several social causes - particularly the education of girls.

I love this woman!

And she supported wounded veterans and children's health needs.

These charitable works endeared Olga to her subjects.

As a result, she was more popular in German society than her husband.

She was personally interested in agriculture and held a firm fondness for all of the day-to-day happenings on her farming estate.

Olga loved natural science as well.

She collected minerals and identified them in a systematic fashion.

As of 2011,  part of her collection is still on display in the Staatliche Museum fur Naturkunde in Stuttgart.

And to this very day, Olga's name is attached to a geological formation in the Northern Territory of Australia.

Well, now, this woman came packed with brains and she knew how to use them!

Olga was admired for her "dignity" and "queenly demeanor" as well.

During a visit by Olga and Charles to Austria in July, 1873,  a lady-in-waiting to Empress Elisabeth of Austria reported her observations of the royal couple:

"He is most insignificant.  She, however, makes a most imposing appearance."

That "imposing appearance" is readily apparent in Franz Xaver Winterhalter's 1865 royal portrait of Olga.

Winterhalter was a student of Joseph Stieler - the master who painted last week's subject, Maria, Queen of Bavaria.

As so often happens in the world of art, Joseph's student eventually surpassed his teacher in the mastery of technique and artistic innovation.

Eventually, Franz was appointed court painter to Grand Duke Leopold of Baden.  This was a promotion that jump started his career.

After success there, he moved to Paris in 1834 where the "citizen king" Louis Phillipe and his successor Emperor Napoleon III recognized his talent and kept him busy painting leading members of Parisian society.

It wasn't long before word got out concerning Franz's artistic talents.  When that happened many of the royal houses of Europe came knocking on Winterhalter's door.

For example, it is known that Franz painted the family of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert of England at least 120 times.

Winterhalter was particularly skilled in combining "likeness with flattery and enlivening official pomp with modern fashion.  He created the image his royal sitters wished or needed to project to their subjects.  He was skilled in the art of painting fabrics, furs, jewelry and facial features as well.  His portraits are elegant, refined, life-like and pleasantly idealized."

Franz became an international celebrity of the first degree due to his royal patronage. The constant demand for his work made him a very wealthy man.  Though Franz desired to paint other subject matter, he was destined to paint portraits of the rich and notable for the rest of his life.

It was no surprise when Olga Nikolayevna asked Franz to record her queenly image for the ages.

He, of course, desired to accommodate her.

Let's take a look.

One glance at Olga's gown tells us that this woman is dripping in royal blood.

That splendid dress is a feast for the eyes - especially for all of us dedicated blue and white lovers!

Indeed, one can almost reach out and feel the soft texture of Olga's blue velvet over-skirt.

I love the background details in this painting.

Those gauzy greens, cloud-swirled skies and carved stones are the perfect note of serenity for Queen Olga's portrait.

We can't help but notice that Olga's ensemble is literally laden with heavy strings of pearls.

They seem to be hanging from every possible point on Olga's gown, don't they?

We see large loops of them drooping everywhere.

I'm thinking that the queen went a little too far with all those magnificent pearls.

But you know what?

There have been those times in my life when I have overdone it with jewelry myself.

So I can empathize with Olga's overzealous desire to wear her beloved pearls.

This girl loves her pearls!

It's easy to get caught up in the excess of lovely things.

I'm seriously guilty of this myself.

So thank you, Queen Olga, for reminding me that I don't really need another vase, bracelet, blouse or......bite of heavenly chocolate.

Hmmm.

What about that last piece of gooey chocolate sitting seductively in that golden box?

Isn't there some sort of law that says "it is not lawful to pass up the last piece of chocolate in a box?"

There has to be!

I can tell you this:

Olga and I have made a pact born of courage and self-mastery.

We're going to pass up that last piece of chocolate lying innocently in the box.

That's because we're off to check out the new line of pearls at Tiffany's!



NOTE:  Some of the information in this post was sourced through "Wikipedia" and Claudia Lanfranconi's wonderful book,  "Girls in Pearls."

GIRLS IN PEARLS: A LOVELY COUNTENANCE

("Marie, Queen of Bavaria", Joseph Stieler, 1842, Schloss Nymphenburg, Munich)

Isn't it heavenly when you discover a kindred spirit?

That's what happened to me when I was walking through art-drenched Munich last year.

It didn't take long for me to see that King Ludwig I of Bavaria and I have a lot in common.

Allow me to begin by saying that we're both fanatical lovers of art.

To say that the King and I are admirers of the Italian Renaissance is undoubtedly the understatement of all time.

"Luddy" and I can't walk by a glowing Madonna without stopping to reverence her majesty.

But it doesn't stop there.

Ancient Greece touches our hearts as well.

Especially classical Greek architecture.

I'm crazy about majestic columns and angled pediments.

"Luddy" erected bunches of columns and pediments when he built his neoclassical buildings in Munich.

That's what happens when you are the king.

("King Ludwig I in Coronation Robes", Joseph Stieler, 1826, Neue Pinakothek, Munich)

You get to dip your sticky fingers into the royal treasury and pull out a boatload of bucks.

And before you know it, your name is splashed all over everything artsy in Munich!

Years later, art lovers like myself stroll through Munich thinking to ourselves,  "Ludwig, you little devil!  You're a man after my own heart."

But art wasn't the only thing Ludwig loved.

He loved the ladies as well.

Hmmm.

Sounds like I need to reevaluate my "kindred spirit" relationship with Luddy.

Claudia Lanfranconi has the inside scoop:

"King Ludwig I of Bavaria was susceptible to feminine charms from an early age.  On his journey to Italy in 1817 he raved about "the eyes of Sicilian women, which glow with passion and with an unutterable yearning."

Goodness me, Ludwig, I'm blushing like a rose!

How about dialing it down a notch or two?

Well, now, that's not gonna happen.

Instead, ladies man Ludwig will decide to create a monument to the glories of feminine beauty.

Isn't that just like a man?

Just once in my life I'd like to see a male create a monument to the glories of normal looking women.

Yup......that's right.

Normal looking women who have inner smarts, inner humor, inner "beauty" coming out the ying yang.

Forgive me for being cynical, but I'm not holding my breath waiting for this to happen.

Anyway......

In 1826, Luddy commissioned his court painter, Joseph Stieler, to paint portraits of 36 lovely-to-look-at ladies.

The alpha dog himself - King Luddy - selected the models for these portraits.

No surprise there.

I do have to give the guy creds for including the "ordinary women of Munich" as well as the ladies of the court in his lineup of beautiful "Miss Munichs."

Claudia Lanfranconi tells us more:

"The main criteria for inclusion were outstanding attractiveness and a spotless character.  Entirely in the spirit of German idealism, Ludwig equated external beauty with high morality and human integrity."

Of course he did!

He's chock full of male chromosomes which means that his brain may not be cookin' on all its burners.

If I understand Luddy correctly, he's saying that it is impossible for a woman to possess inner beauty unless she is drop dead gorgeous on the outside as well.

Oh......my......stars.

I can't believe I actually thought this idiot - excuse me, man - was going to be my art lovin' soulmate!

Portraitist Joseph Karl Stieler was trained in the Parisian workshop of the esteemed realist Francois Gerard.

Eventually, Stieler was asked by Ludwig I to paint his pretties for the so-called "Gallery of Beauties" which would be on display in the royal residence in Munich.

This he did.

Stieler's most notable painterly characteristic was his ability to focus on the sitter.

The usual decorative additions are omitted in many of Stieler's portraits.

As a rule, you're not going to see a gaggle of columns, draperies and furniture in Joseph's paintings.

(Stieler's above portrait of King Ludwig is an obvious exception.)

Hence, there is nothing to distract the viewer from her or his enjoyment of the painting's subject.

Joseph Stieler successfully achieved this goal by deliberately using the contrast of light and dark in his works.

This technique helps to accurately characterize the facial features of Stieler's sitters.

Such was the case when Stieler painted "Marie, Queen of Bavaria" - one of the last women to be included in the "Gallery of Beauties."

Marie was born and raised in Berlin.

She was the daughter of Prince Wilhelm of Prussia and his wife, Landgravine Marie Anna of Hesse-Homburg.

In 1842, Marie married the Crown Prince of Bavaria who later became King Maximilian II.

This lovely woman was adored by the Prussian population which was mostly Lutheran and by Bavaria's Roman Catholics as well.

That's not an easy thing to pull off, by the way.

An important emphasis of Marie's royal good works was the reactivation of the Bavarian Women's Association whose objective was to care for and support wounded soldiers in the field.

The Bavarian Red Cross was officially founded as a result of the Bavarian Women's Association.

Those were some of Marie's good works.

And they were, indeed, good works.

Now, let's examine her stunning portrait.

As mentioned, Stieler used an economy of color and composition in Marie's portrait.

We see a pretty woman looking exquisitely royal in this painting.

Look no further than her ermine-bordered robe for that visual announcement.

Stieler has used raven-hued black, ruby red, creamy whites and a million shades of silvery gray to paint his portrait of Marie.

The effect is beautiful, isn't it?

I love his inclusion of two tiny spots of blue-gray which fill her eyes with clarity and life.

Marie is obviously an attractive woman.

Luddy got that right.

Her silvery gown is charmingly bowed and laced.

It is feminine to the max.

Marie's face is classically beautiful as well.

A simple strand of shimmering pearls loosely encircles Marie's neck.

Those splendid pearls, situated as they are in the middle of the painting, draw our eyes into the portrait.

Any further addition of accessories would take our gaze from the sitter herself.

Art museums are filled with portraits of women who are overdressed and over-jeweled.

Many of these painted ladies seem desperate for our attention.

Though, in fact, they may not be.

Marie, on the other hand, appears to have no such concerns.

She is tastefully adorned, simplistically beautiful and......

refreshing to the eye.

Marie's portrait is a perfect example of the truism "less is more."

King Ludwig I gallantly selected Marie for his "Gallery of Beauties."

Joseph Stieler masterfully painted her striking likeness for all to admire.

But that's as far as their visions and talents could take them.

Did they create the woman we see in this portrait?

Hardly.

Marie composed that picture all by herself.

GIRLS IN PEARLS: ELEGANT ELEONORA

(Eleonora of Toledo with Her Son Don Giovanni, Agnolo Bronzino, Ufizzi Gallery, Florence, 1550)

I've had a life long weakness for Italian art.

I'm talking about the old stuff:

Cimabue's Medieval madonnas.

Renaissance master Micheleangelo's bold bodies.

Pontormo's pastel-hued, elongated ladies.

And Caravaggio's Baroque masterpieces - bathed in the drama of light and dark.

I love it all.

My heart flutters when I get within viewing distance of the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.

Delicious treasures hang on the walls inside the Uffizi - the oldest art museum in the world.

Some of those treasures were created by painter Agnolo Bronzino - the adopted son of the above mentioned Mannerist master, Pontormo.

Mannerists began tweaking Renaissance classical style around the year 1520 or the period known as the summit of the High Renaissance.

These innovators painted elongated or over-muscular figures which were often set in extravagant poses.

Mannerist colors, beautifully presented but just a bit off base, do not usually replicate what is seen in the natural world.

The Mannerist study and search for figural movement eventually led to the development of the Baroque era in art which began around the year 1600.

This puddle of information leads us directly to Eleonora of Toledo and her favorite court painter, Agnolo Bronzino.

Eleonora was the wife of Grand Duke Cosimo I de' Medici who ruled Florence from 1537-1574.

Like her Italian sister in spirit,  Isabella d'Este, Eleonora was no trophy wife.

In Cosimo's absence, Eleonora conducted state business herself.

And like Isabella, she thoroughly enjoyed promoting the arts.

Ladies, you rock!

Bronzino was the ultimate High Mannerist painter in all of Florence.

I love what the Random House Library of Art has to say about Agnolo:

"Bronzino was the coolest and most immaculate technician of the sixteenth century."

In my opinion, the folks at the Library of Art nailed it.

I never carelessly glide by a Bronzino painting.

Never.

His work pulls me in and invites me to stare in wonder every single time.

Then I get all googly-eyed and gushy.

I'm not embarrassed to admit it.

Such was the case with Bronzino's portrait  "Eleonora of Toledo with her Son Don Giovanni."

I'd like to say that it was Eleonora's magnificent pearls -  and they are magnifico! - that first grabbed my attention.

But that would be a lie.

It was that gorgeous gown she's wearing to perfection.

Talk about the epitome of Renaissance couture!

WOW!

If that silvery gown isn't saying, "Hey, look at me!," I promise to eat it for tomorrow's breakfast.

Lovely black curlicues wind their way over the surface of Eleonora's fabulous frock.

They resemble one of the most popular and beautiful motifs of timeless Italian art - the acanthus leaf.

And you can't miss that bold punch of gold in those damask medallions that are strategically scattered across her gown.

The billowy, ruched sleeves, ruffled cuffs and rich braid trim are lyrically lovely as well.

But enough about that dress!

Whoops!

I forgot to say that the duchess's gown cost more than the painting itself.

And - hang on another second - this busy woman sent the whole gorgeous ensemble over to Bronzino's workshop to save time on sittings.

There.

I think I just might be done rhapsodizing over Eleonora's gown.

Now it's time to go ga-ga over Bronzino's unabashedly blue background.

And Giovanni's demurely blue waistcoat.

I'm a dyed-in-the-wool blue girl.

Blue makes me feel calm, elegant and here's a shocker: beautiful!

No other color on the planet makes me feel as good as blue does.

Bronzino has permeated his background with mottled tones of cool blue.

The blues highlight the faces and the ensembles of his sitters.

Trust me - it wasn't a happy accident when Bronzino chose those beautiful blues for this royal portrait.

Now let's take a closer look at those heavenly pearls.

The duchess's necklaces are simple in design.

That's a good thing because the ginormous size of those pearls is show stopping, isn't it?

Eleonora's earrings are classic teardrops -  elegant and refined.

They are a much needed counterpoint to the busyness of the gown's sumptuous patterns.

Next, feast your eyes on that netlike head wrap.

And the matching netted collar of her dress.

Both are studded with pearls at every crossing of the braided trim.

Stunning, aren't they?

Eleonora wears a jewel encrusted belt around her waist.

Follow the tail of that belt along the outline of Eleonora's left hand.

Bronzino has lifted her index finger slightly in order to highlight the pretty presence of the serpentine pearl tassel.

That tassel, in my opinion, is the crowning jewel in this stately portrait.

I adore it's slinky lines that are simply dripping with undulating pearls.

If you look closely you can see the black lines of the gown's acanthus leaf motif under the curvy cluster of pearls.

That, my friends, is why Bronzino is a Mannerist Master!

Now, just a word or two about Bronzino's frosty faces.

They are supposed to appear cool, restrained and indifferent.

That's because Eleonora and Giovanni are members of the Florentine aristocracy, after all.

They aren't supposed to interact with us lowly peasants.

So they don't!

Again, from the Random House Library of Art:

"It was in court portraiture that Bronzino's style was most aptly and effectively engaged.  In the creation of images of absolute autocracy in human form he has never been surpassed.  He projects characters of detached superiority.  Communication with the onlooker is nonexistent.  The sitter is there for admiration.

Well, now, I'll have a big old bowl of that.

Personally, I don't want to interact with every Jane, Gertrude or Alice who looks my way!

I'd rather stand there drooling as I admire every one of Bronzino's disengaged sitters!

Go ahead - call me shallow.

I stand guilty as charged.

I LOVE PRETTY PEOPLE.

AND I LOVE THEIR PRETTY STUFF.

Most of all,  I love gifted painters who harbor genius in their souls.

The sort of genius that splashes color, form and line on canvas and creates sublime beauty for all to behold.

I'm speaking of beauty that defies time, place and, yes, even societal rank.

Bronzino's beauties do that for me.

They always have and they always will.